


purgatory

by fiordilatte



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Hurts So Good, I Tried, M/M, Post-Series, Prison Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiordilatte/pseuds/fiordilatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slaine almost thought it was funny, that for all his tactical genius, Kaizuka Inaho had been reduced to this just to get him to talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	purgatory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nozurei](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nozurei).



> Just fulfilling my duties as a senpai. I hope this is what you wanted ~`O`~  
> I love how we’re like ‘wow what a terrible ending - well _hello_ prison sex’ Only A/Z haha.  
>  Today's theme song: [Help I’m Alive by Metric](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtA7YIFapnY)

Lately, he’d taken to reading to pass the time. Books helped him combat the loneliness, and gave him something to occupy his mind with.

He had gotten accustomed to his living conditions fairly easily over the past year and a half, as it wasn’t any worse than how he’d lived as a servant. He had a small bed and his own desk, which already made it luxurious in comparison to the other cells. He even had a window, though it was barred off by thick steel. It made the nights chilly, but he was glad to have scenery other than the unforgiving grey of the prison walls.

He knew that Inaho made sure he was held in a separate cell in order to protect him. Despite the growing crowd control problems the institute faced, the nineteen year old hadn’t budged on his position. Slaine was to be left alone. No cellmates were to ever be permitted. It seemed possessive, but the logic was sound. There were too many people who would try to attack the ex Versian Count, too many who would let their hate get the better of them. To the rest of the world, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard was a dead man anyway, so they might as well finish the deed for good.

Slaine supposed that Kaizuka expected him to feel grateful for the isolation, but in truth he wouldn’t mind a few fights now and then. The silence was suffocating and dehumanizing. He craved interaction, no matter how unpleasant it proved to be. He was sinking into himself, drowning in self-destructive thoughts and delusions.

For the past seventeen months, he’d been locked up here as some sort of ambitious pet project for the UFE soldier. A special interest case - in other words, a glorified pastime. A puzzle for Inaho to slowly piece together on his biweekly trips to the penitentiary.

He had the footsteps committed to memory now, and could tell simply by the calm, even gait that Kaizuka Inaho was visiting. He chewed the inside of his lip and continued to read, refusing to acknowledge the slight increase in his heart rate.

The heavy door swung open with a loud creak, and the usual face peered into his cell, wearing the same apathetic expression as always.

“You look well. What are you reading about this week?”

His lips curled back into a disdainful sneer as he set the book down. “Physics,” he responded curtly, “so you don’t have to waste your time explaining it to me.” Slaine stood up and stretched his lean muscles out, listened to his joints crack and pop. He’d been sitting still for too long and the lack of physical activity had left him feeling stiff and tense, wound tight like a spring.

Time to get this over with. He held out his arms, not bothering to hide his sigh, and waited for the metal to close over the slender wrists.

“Not today,” said Inaho, still standing in the doorway. He glanced down at the tablet in his hand, then rapidly typed something out. “Let’s go.”

Slaine arched an eyebrow, quizzical. “No handcuffs?”

The brunet shrugged. “I told the warden you’d behave. He finally believed me.” He showed Slaine the new insignia pinned on his uniform. “Must be the promotion,” he said dryly.

Loath as Slaine was to admit it, Inaho really was impressive, climbing the ranks like that. A lifetime ago he would have mistaken that confidence for arrogance, but they both knew it was based on merit.

“Fine. _Lieutenant Kaizuka._ ” He saluted sardonically. Inaho didn’t quite catch the sarcasm and mirrored him, briefly raising his hand to his head in return. Slaine stifled a bitter laugh.

Kaizuka led him down the dimly lit hallway, up the stairs, to the same glass visiting room that they always used.

“After you.” Inaho pulled the door open for him.

Once they had taken their seats, they started a game of chess, like they did every time. It was agonizing for Slaine, an exercise in pointless frustration.

He tried to end the match quickly, listlessly pushed his pieces into deliberately bad positions and set all his pawns up for sacrifice.

Inaho could have finished it with any move, but he drew it out, and countered with just as many purposeful errors. Today’s game had become a contest of losing. A battle of attrition.

The seconds dragged past. There was no sound, save for the clink of glass pieces moving across the board. What did Inaho hope to prove?

Sometimes he would talk to fill the overbearing silence, and Inaho would listen. He would feed Kaizuka lies, strings of important-sounding phrases that meant nothing at all.

War had twisted Slaine into a particularly talented liar. He had very few tells and he could spin his words to mean whatever he wanted, but Inaho was smarter than most. The younger boy would catch him on every single falsehood and try to wrest the truth out. He treated Slaine like a science project, testing every possible variable until the blond reached his limit and either snapped or gave in.

Too bad he wasn’t in a talkative mood today.

He stared through the glass walls, felt the shadows weigh on him through the thin fabric of his prison scrubs. Slaine locked eyes with the guards skulking around the corners, his expression piercing and derisive.

Inaho tapped the table to get his attention. “Your move. Try not to get distracted.”

Enough already.

Without thinking, he threw the chessboard to the floor. The glass pieces went flying, scattering on the concrete with a diminutive crash. He wasn’t angry, though. Not anymore. He’d learned, after months of solitude in the darkness, that there was no use in showing that kind of emotion.

But he was impatient. He was waiting for death, waiting for the descent into nothingness. He grew haggard and weary as his days wasted away, brittle and easily agitated.

He knew for a fact that he would die in this place, rooted in self-loathing. Asseylum had meant well, and his heart still tore at the memory of her, but she had never truly understood him. She had asked Inaho to meet an impossible ideal, and the other boy had been stubborn enough to keep trying, even after more than a year had passed. And if this was what Inaho thought ‘living’ was, then he was exceptionally cruel. Slaine had killed with far more kindness.

Misery was the _only_ constant in his life. It defined him more than he’d known; when he had absolutely everything taken from him, it was the only thing that remained. Slaine didn’t mind. He just wished it would end sooner.

“This has become a routine,” Kaizuka remarked, tone still light. The brunet slipped his military jacket off and set about rearranging the cracked chess pieces back on the table, as if nothing had happened.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, tight-lipped.

“I’ll bring another set for you, next visit.” The chess game was always Inaho’s first priority.

“Do what you like.” His jaw set in a half-hearted scowl as he brought his gaze to the other man’s. Slaine knew what would happen next. He was already anticipating it.

Chess, talk, fuck. Sometimes, like today, they didn’t make it through the chess round. Sometimes there were no words, either, just guttural screams that echoed through the dark prison cells as they skipped the forced civility and small talk. He wasn’t sure why Inaho even bothered with the first two steps, but he’d noticed that the brunet had to do things systematically, in the same order, at the same time. It was as though he had a checklist of activities planned for them, and had to follow it exactly.

Slaine almost thought it was funny, that for all his tactical genius, Kaizuka Inaho had been reduced to this just to get him to talk. It wasn’t power, but it felt like it could be. He could have leverage here if he knew how to play.

He leapt to his feet, so Inaho did too. Their chairs screeched discordantly on the floor as they made their way around the table.

Inaho’s deft fingers closed around the pendant at Slaine’s neck, pulled him forward so they were mere millimetres apart. The silver chain dug into his skin, and the metal links chafed against his pale flesh like a leash.

Good. Kaizuka caught on fast.

“Your hair is getting long,” the shorter boy mused, shoving his free hand up into the matted curls, methodically yanking at the most sensitive areas.

Jolts of pain ran through his scalp and Slaine reveled in it, knees buckling as he submitted to Inaho. He needed it to hurt.

A wiry arm circled around him. “And you’re still not eating enough,” was the next assessment. His tone held something akin to concern. Inaho reached under Slaine’s shirt and pinched the thin waist between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the gaunt body.

He flinched at the touch but ignored the comment, just compressed his lips to a hard line. He’d never been a big eater, and his appetite had dwindled further after his imprisonment. His reflexes were good, though, and he was more than able to keep up with Inaho’s games. He remained lanky and strong in spite of everything. It would take much more to break him.

Kaizuka pulled him down for a kiss.

The first few times, Inaho had simply done that to keep him quiet, to subdue the outrage when Slaine used to shout obscenities and hateful words. Soon enough it became a habit, lips mashed against lips in primal desire - an unspoken admission that this was truly what they had fallen to.

Slaine bit as hard as he was able, because he couldn’t be _nice_ , couldn’t be soft. Inaho followed his lead, jerked harder at the pendant, bit him back so their kisses were wet and bloody.

The concrete was murder on his knees as he reached for the other boy’s belt, slipped it through the loops, and promptly tossed it aside. Inaho just stood still and observed as Slaine undid his navy blue pants for him, fingers clumsy but purposeful.

He wrapped his hand around the base of Inaho’s cock, felt it harden as he brought his lips to the tip. Slaine didn’t hesitate in rolling his tongue along the underside of the shaft, licking him, letting the taste settle in his mouth.

Then he took him in all the way, bobbing his head slowly, getting Inaho slick with saliva. Slaine ran his teeth across the ridged edges, adding pressure and stimulating the other boy to an excited, breathless state. He wouldn’t bite, but he’d make sure Inaho knew that he _could_.

He heard the brunet inhale sharply, but Inaho didn’t object to his ministrations. He’d found out that the other boy had a penchant for pain, too, though most people wouldn’t believe that from looking at him. The precum that pooled in his mouth only served to prove it.

Meanwhile Inaho continued to pull fistfuls of his hair, angling Slaine’s head upward, forcing him to make eye contact.

He sucked Kaizuka like he wanted to be fucked, desperately and violently, and took him to the back of his throat. His own cock strained against his pants, swollen with arousal.

He moaned, his lips still wrapped around Inaho, when the other boy suddenly pushed him off.

Then Slaine felt hot bursts of cum splatter onto him, sticky and thick. It was degrading, but it was what he deserved. It dripped down his face and hair, and he felt Inaho look at him lustfully, watching the way it trickled along his skin.

“Your turn… I can keep going.” Inaho’s voice was a little hoarse, but he retained his composure. “Give me your clothes.”

Eager for his own release, Slaine did as he was told.

The brunet’s eyes were glued to him as he stood up and peeled the shirt off, exposing his scarred chest and sinewy muscle. He teased the waistband of his pants down his narrow hips, lazily slid the fabric along his milky thighs.

As he stripped for Inaho, he saw that the other boy had gotten hard again almost instantly. He wondered what it was about him that had that effect on Kaizuka.

The younger boy carefully folded Slaine’s clothes for him, and snapped a condom on. Slaine wasn’t opposed to doing it raw but Inaho liked to follow the rules, keep it safe. Everything always had to be neat and proper.

“We should use lubricant,” said Inaho, rubbing up against Slaine’s entrance. Cool fingertips dug into the small of his sweaty back. It wasn’t necessarily out of thoughtfulness, Slaine knew, but more out of a compulsive need to be efficient.

“I don’t care,” he spat, though the usual venom in his words had been missing for the last few visits. He stared sullenly at the chessboard. “Hurry up.”

“It’s up to you,” the brunet replied blandly, then rammed the now-familiar length into him without waiting for him to adjust. “But it’ll hurt.”

He screamed into the table, stubby fingernails raking across the weathered metal. His breath came out in ragged gasps and he let himself lose his senses as his muscles clenched on Inaho’s cock.

“Harder,” was all that he said. It was base and vulgar and unrefined, and so exactly what he needed. More than anything, he wanted to cum. “Fuck me like you mean it!”

There was no one left for Slaine Troyard to impress or inspire, no one whose opinion actually mattered. At first he’d been self-conscious about it, having kept himself covered in uniforms for most of his life. He was used to being discreet and cautious, for fear of getting beaten or blamed.

Now that he had nothing to lose, there were no such inhibitions. The prison guards had gotten accustomed to it and he didn’t care anymore if they watched him get taken.

It got rougher with each visit. This time was no exception. He let the Lieutenant fuck him until he couldn’t think past the pain, let himself get impaled by Inaho’s cock until he was numb with pleasure.

“Kaizuka!” he rasped, saliva spilling from his mouth. His pendant clanged against the table with every thrust. He couldn’t call him by his given name, not like this, because that would be overstepping the careful boundaries he’d set. They could never be on friendly terms, but they could never tack on the honorifics, either.

His cock dripped as he stroked himself to match Inaho’s rhythm, felt that frantic toxic need build up in him. He collapsed onto the table as he came, shuddering and whimpering, violently bucking his hips into the icy metal.

It was his only reprieve from the emptiness. The only solution that Inaho had found so far - the only one that Slaine had let him know about. It didn’t make anyone happy, but it was a temporary patch.

He stumbled back to his feet after catching his breath, and Inaho quietly handed his uniform back to him.

“Tell me.” It was a command. _I fucked you, now you owe me the truth._ That was their unspoken agreement. Slaine was at his most vulnerable in that brief moment, and Inaho unscrupulously took advantage of it. The newly-minted Lieutenant wouldn’t put up with lies at this point in their game.

It could be any fact. _I like seagulls, I hate the colour orange, I am twenty years old and I still want to die._

Kaizuka seemed to be sincerely interested in learning more about him, but Slaine was a tough read when it came to personal matters. Yet when he saw Inaho, still pristine and exuding authority despite what they’d just done, he felt his defiance waver, if only for a second.

“I liked the sky the most,” Slaine offered tonelessly. He tugged at the hem of his blue shirt. “It was vast and pure and promised freedom.”

Inaho nodded. “Until next time, then.” A single dark eye bored into Slaine’s dull gaze. “I’ll figure out a better way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Slaine has Aldnoah.Zero Chill. (Still kicking myself for not adding that to the Rapper Slaine fic arghhh!)  
> so uh **super important question,** who do you think gives a better bj?? my money is on Inaho since he does it by the books (knowledge), but Slaine can freestyle pretty well and mix it up (instinct)... please for the love of all that is holy help me put this to rest   
>  ALSO OMG CHECK OUT MY [A/Z NAILS](https://twitter.com/jorktastic/status/584504415517704192)  
> Have a spectacular day!


End file.
